


You’re In My Veins

by imonfire



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: 2016 US Presidential Election, Angst, F/F, Femslash, Forbidden Love, Politics, Secret Relationship, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 09:08:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29748207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imonfire/pseuds/imonfire
Summary: Ivanka Trump and Chelsea Clinton’s relationship ended badly following the 2016 election. It seems that they have both moved on, until they get seated together at the funeral of George H. W. Bush, and are forced to confront past feelings and heartache.
Relationships: Chelsea Clinton/Ivanka Trump





	You’re In My Veins

Ivanka’s heart sank as she looked at the seating plan that had been sent through to her office for the Bush funeral that was happening in two days time. She genuinely didn’t think that someone could’ve devised a worse seating plan, and was sure that whoever had made it had done it on purpose. In two days time, she was going to be sitting next to Chelsea Clinton. 

The last time Ivanka and Chelsea had been together was a week before the election in 2016, and it had not ended well. To say that their parents battling against each other had put a strain on their relationship was putting it mildly, but in the last month leading up to the election, things had reached fever-pitch for both the two women and their parents. 

The two women had been friends for a while before things kicked off. They ran in the same social circles in New York, and their lives had eerily similar, a fact which led to them hitting it off initially. They were both born to incredibly famous parents, were both engaged to New York City financial tycoons, and, crucially, were both heavily scrutinised by the media. They often saw each other at parties and events, and became fast friends. Bonded by their hatred of the media, they enjoyed hanging out in private. 

Neither of them were ever entirely sure of who made the first move, but they knew that it had happened fast and unexpectedly. Ivanka had invited Chelsea to her apartment for dinner and drinks, emphasis on the drinks. The two women got tipsy very quickly, finishing off a bottle of wine before they even had their starter. The rest of the night went in this direction, and by the time they had finished dinner, both women were suitably drunk. Ivanka suggested watching TV on the couch, which in turn led to making out on the couch. They were giggly at first, blaming it on the alcohol, but when Ivanka eventually deepened the kiss, it had an incredibly sobering effect on both women. 

“Come to bed with me,” whispered Ivanka, her hands delicately cupping Chelsea’s face. Chelsea was visibly nervous, but she trusted Ivanka, and she knew that she wanted this, so she nodded and let Ivanka lead her to the bedroom. 

Closing the door behind them, Ivanka pushed Chelsea up against it, and started to kiss her more passionately. Ivanka had instinctively taken the lead, but deep down she was just as nervous as Chelsea, and so when she moaned into her mouth following the kiss, Ivanka knew she was doing something right. 

“Can I?” whispered Ivanka, lightly tugging at the hem of Chelsea’s deep blue dress. Chelsea nodded, and Ivanka lifted it gently over her head, before letting out a small, involuntary gasp.

“What?” said Chelsea, trying hard to push down her insecurities and nerves. 

“Nothing, I just...you’re so beautiful, Chels,” Ivanka smiled, taking in what she saw before her. 

“No I’m not,” blushed Chelsea. 

“Yes, you are. Let me show you just how beautiful you are,” whispered Ivanka seductively, sending shivers down Chelsea’s spine. 

The blonde spun her around and backed her up slowly to the bed, taking off her own dress in the process. Once Chelsea was lying on her back, Ivanka climbed on top and began to kiss her once more. 

“Wait, Ivanka,” Chelsea said suddenly, pulling out of the kiss. “I’ve never...done this before. With a girl.”

“Neither have I,” replied Ivanka. “We’ll figure it out together,” she assured her, moving her lips to Chelsea’s neck. 

Slowly working her way down Chelsea’s body, Ivanka peppered kisses on her collarbones, before reaching her breasts. She swiftly unhooked her bra, and wasted no time on taking a nipple into her mouth. Ivanka worked on them for several minutes, switching between her mouth and fingers, and she soon had Chelsea squirming under her. 

“Did you like that?” she teased. “Do you want more?”

Nodding frantically, Chelsea could feel how wet she was becoming. Ivanka seemed to have also noticed, as she began running her long, slender fingers up and down the growing wet patch of Chelsea’s underwear. 

“God, you’re so wet for me baby. I think these need to come off right now,” Ivanka smiled, sliding Chelsea’s panties down her legs and quickly discarding them to a corner of the room. 

Repositioning herself between her legs, Ivanka brought two fingers to Chelsea’s core and began to tease her once more. 

“Please, Ivanka,” whined Chelsea, her body desperately craving touch. Ivanka obliged, and slowly inserted two fingers inside her lover. Chelsea cried out and bucked her hips as Ivanka began fucking her. Soon after, she began swirling her tongue around her clit, which only added to Chelsea’s ecstasy. It hadn’t been long, but she could already feel herself getting close. 

“Does it feel good, baby?” whispered Ivanka, and Chelsea could only moan in return. She began to speed up everything that she was doing, as she could feel that Chelsea was close. Her hips bucked once again and she felt her walls tighten around her fingers, and with one more lick, Ivanka had pushed Chelsea over the edge. 

“FUCK, Ivanka!” she yelled, whilst grabbing a fistful of blonde hair. It took Chelsea a few minutes to calm down, and as Ivanka crawled back up beside her and gave her a final kiss, both women knew that their relationship would never be the same again. 

Sneaking around was difficult for Ivanka and Chelsea, as they both had very busy schedules, and were often followed by the paparazzi. They made it work, however, and 6 months after their first kiss, Ivanka told Chelsea that she loved her. Chelsea told Ivanka that she loved her too. 

Their relationship ran into obstacles often, however, named marriage and children. Their love never faltered, however, and both Chelsea and Ivanka looked forward to their secret trysts more than anything. 

The biggest obstacle, however, proved to yhe the 2016 election, where Ivanka’s father and Chelsea’s mother both announced that they would be running for president. 

For Ivanka, she wanted politics to stay out of her relationship with Chelsea. She used their meet-ups as a way of relaxing from the constant pressures of the campaign trail. When she was with Chelsea, Ivanka felt that she could take off that perfectly-crafted mask she wore around everyone else in her life - her father, his supporters, Jared. The list was endless. Ivanka wasn’t sure when she had stopped feeling like her own person and instead felt like nothing more than a perfectly polished ambassador for the Trump brand, but she knew that when she was with Chelsea, that all faded away. She felt like herself again and could simply exist in the moment, rather than having to worry about the knock-on effects of her actions for the whole family. 

For Chelsea, however, it was getting increasingly difficult to separate the politics from the person. In the beginning, the two women had laughed about Trump’s bid for the Republican nomination. Ivanka joked along with her when they discussed how he was simply entering politics because he was bored and wanted to try something new. Then he began winning primaries, and his candidacy became less funny. Both Chelsea and Ivanka knew that if Trump won the Republican nomination, and Hillary the Democratic, it would make their already difficult arrangement nearly impossible. So politics ceased to be mentioned between the two women. Chelsea, however, couldn’t get it out of her mind no matter how hard she tried. 

Both Ivanka and Chelsea longed to go back to the days of when politics wasn’t an issue. Sneaking around Manhattan was difficult, especially when you’re two extremely recognisable faces, but at least they didn’t have to deal with the added pressure of being the children of two bitter political rivals. By default, they should have hated each other, but they didn’t. Not even a little bit. Various articles were written throughout the campaign about their ‘unlikely friendship,’ and they had often laughed with each other about how much the press didn’t know. The laughter usually turned to silence, however, when it dawned on the two women how much was at stake with what they were doing, and how much they had to lose if they were ever caught. 

Chelsea often voiced these worries to Ivanka, who listened and agreed, then calmed her lover with a kiss. 

“When we’re here, it’s just us. We’re just Chelsea and Ivanka. Forget the surnames. Forget everyone else. It’s just you and me, that’s all that matters,” she would tell her. 

Chelsea smiled back fondly. “You and me,” she would reply. 

As both their parents secured their nominations and the general election campaign had heated up, however, Chelsea was less easily calmed. She was also finding it more difficult to separate Ivanka from her father’s rhetoric, especially since she was becoming more active on the campaign trail. Things were reaching a climax, and so in the last week of October, Chelsea simply couldn’t hold it in any longer. 

“How can you just stand by and watch while he says all those disgusting things? About my family, about my mother?!” she shouted.

“You’re acting as if your mother has never said one bad word about my father this entire time,” Ivanka shot back. 

“Well she certainly never encouraged millions of deranged supporters to ‘lock him up,’ did she?” replied Chelsea, trying desperately to hold back tears. 

“I don’t even know why you’re bringing this up, Chelsea. You know me, better than anyone, you know I don’t agree with the things he says. I don’t even think he really believes most of it, he’s just saying it to win over the supporters!”

“Huh, well, it’s certainly working,” Chelsea laughed dryly. “Do you know I wake up every morning terrified that something has happened to my Mom, because of something that he’s said?”

“Well I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do about that, Chels. I can’t suddenly run on stage at a rally and shout ‘Hey guys! Maybe don’t be so rude to the competition because - spoiler alert! I’m fucking her daughter!’”

Chelsea was quiet for a moment, the tears that had been building up finally falling down her cheeks. Ivanka had realised what she’d said, but it was too late. Silence hung uncomfortably in the air.

“Is that really all this is to you? Just fucking? After almost 7 years?”

“Chels, no, I-I didn’t mean it. I was upset and it just came out. Please, Chelsea, just calm down,” Ivanka begged, grabbing Chelsea’s arm, who had already started getting dressed and packing away her things. “You know I love you. You know that.”

“Do I? Because from what I’ve seen recently it certainly doesn’t feel that way. You didn’t even want him to run, so why are you so actively involved in all of this?!”

“Because he’s my father! Because I love him and...and he needs me. Do you know how many times I’ve convinced him to go easier on an issue? There’s been a lot, Chels!”

“Oh, oh my god Ivanka, thank you so much! Did you manage to convince him to change the chant from ‘shoot her’ to simply ‘lock her up?’ Thank you so much for your service, my family and I truly appreciate it!” Tears were falling uncontrollably from Chelsea’s eyes now, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Stop it, Chelsea! Just stop it! Things were going fine until you decided to bring up the campaign. We were making the best out of a difficult situation, and you had to go and ruin that.”

“Things were not FINE, Ivanka. I’ve been feeling like this for MONTHS, but I’ve kept it in because I didn’t want to upset you. When we were together I used to forget about everything else, but now when I look at you all I can picture is you standing beside him cheering him on while he says something else completely disgusting. And I don’t think I can do that anymore.”

Ivanka went very quiet. They had never fought like this before, but she didn’t think that Chelsea was actually going to end things with her. In a week, Hillary would win, and things with them could go back to normal. That’s what Ivanka had always assumed. 

“Chelsea...please don’t,” she whispered, her tone changing dramatically from before. 

“I don’t want to, I don’t. But I really, really cannot do this anymore. I can’t be with someone who’s so involved with him, I just can’t. It’s too hard, Ivanka.”

“In a week it’s all going to be over, Chelsea. Your mom is gonna win and we can get back to normal. Please don’t throw this away because of our parents.”

“It’s not just our parents though, is it? We’re both involved with this Ivanka, whether we like it or not, and even once everything is over, I can’t look at you like I used to. I love you, so much, but I’m done with this,” whispered Chelsea, walking to the front door of Ivanka’s rented apartment. She had rented it under a false name a few years ago, to use for the two of them. 

“Please...” was all Ivanka could manage, tears beginning to slowly fall down her face.

“I’m sorry,” whispered Chelsea, not turning back for one last look at her lover before she left the apartment. 

Ivanka, despite her head screaming at her not to, let her go. Slowly, the small, silent tears turned to loud, ugly sobs, as the reality of what had just happened washed over her. She’d lost the only person who actually gave a damn about her. She didn’t care about her business deals, her assets, she didn’t care about anything except Ivanka as a person. And now she was gone. She’d let her and her father’s ignorance drive away her love, and she hated herself for it. 

“It’s okay, it’s going to be okay. She just needs some time. You can win her back. When Hillary wins and the dust settles, you can win her back,” Ivanka tried telling herself. 

Except, Hillary did not win. Her father did. The dust did not settle, and Ivanka knew that she’d lost Chelsea for good. 

She had watched her standing behind Hillary whilst she gave her concession speech, the whole family visibly crushed. She wanted to reach through the TV screen and hold her in her arms whilst stroking her hair, something that Chelsea had always loved so much. But she couldn’t. Because Chelsea was right. She was complicit. She was complicit in helping her father get elected, and she was complicit in the pain that she had caused Chelsea. 

A few days after the election, Ivanka had tried calling Chelsea. It went straight to voicemail, so she left a message. 

“Chels...it’s me. I know you said you were done, and you probably hate me, and I understand why. But I’m worried about you. Please call me Chels, just to let me know that you’re okay. Please. I love you.”

Ivanka knew she sounded pathetic, but she didn’t care. She knew how hard Chelsea had worked on the campaign, and how much it meant to her. She knew how devastated she would be for her mother, and she hated herself for the role she had played in that. 

Days, and eventually weeks went by, and Chelsea did not return any of Ivanka’s calls. The weeks following the election were a whirlwind for Ivanka, but she still found time every day to call Chelsea and leave a voicemail. She checked her social media accounts for any sign of activity, but there was nothing. Eventually, the day before the inauguration, Ivanka simply text her “I’m sorry.”

This was the last attempt at contacting Chelsea, and now almost two years had flown by. Her work within the administration had kept her so busy that she eventually found herself thinking about Chelsea less and less, and when she did, the pain felt dull and muted, rather than an open wound. In her mind, Ivanka was slowly moving on, she was healing. 

That is, until two days time, when she would find herself sitting right beside Chelsea at the funeral of George H. W. Bush.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This idea came to me when I found out that Chelsea and Ivanka’s friendship ended but that they were seated together at the funeral. I couldn’t ignore the opportunity for angst!
> 
> This chapter is kind of long but I really wanted to set up their previous relationship going into the funeral, so I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> All feedback is appreciated :)


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